We have been in Turkey looking into the refugee situation there. In Turkey approximately 3,5 million refugees live right now. Out of this large number there is an estimate of 350.000 children, who is not going to School or getting education. Some say it is a lost generation - surely they are forgotten. In this photo-essay you can meet some of the children affected by the current situation. We met them in Istanbul and in the surrounding ares of the city.

Click the images to see them enlarged.

Turen var støttet af Danidas oplysningslegat, og reportagen blev skabt i samarbejde med flygtningeekspert Mathias Findalen Bickersteth.

Meet Emad (b. 1987) from Damascus, Syria.

Emad fled Syria on October 25 in 2014. He had been called up for military service by the Syrian regime and the military had been at his house several times to pick him up. He has lost six cousins in Syria - all of them disappeared in Syrian prisons. 

He fled from Damaskus to Lebanon. “In Lebanon, life was way too hard, but I thought the war would end soon and that I could return to Syria”. 

Emad started working in the construction industry in Lebanon, but was taken advantage of by his employer, who could avoid paying Emad’s salary by turning him in to the Lebanese police. Due to this, Emad was denounced as a criminal and was forced to live underground. 

In Lebanon Emad has lost two cousins. One had to take care of some paperwork with the Lebanese government and never returned. His wife became a widow with five children. Another cousin disappeared in a Lebanese prison.

Emad made the choice of fleeing to Europe: 

“When you take the decision to go on this trip you know it may cost you your life”.

From Lebanon, he managed to get to Algeria by plane. From there he went on a dangerous car ride through the desert from Tunisia to Libya, a trip where Emad sat with twelve other persons on the cargo area of a pickup truck. The car drove at a very high speed to reduce the risk of being shot at and two men lost their lives during the trip: “The pickup truck jumped up and down. It was a big man who fell off. We were shouting but they could not stop. The other man had difficulties breathing. He was thrown off the truck. They left him in the Sahara”.

From Libya, Emad sailed to Italy in a crowded ship with approximately 200 other refugees. Five kilometers from Italy’s coast, the boat was about to sink, but they managed to be rescued by the Italian coast guard. Emad’s route ended in Denmark.

In Syria he worked as archaeologist. 

“In Syria I have taken an education. I am well educated. I had a job. When I think of myself, it is as if I’ve built a really tall building and from one day to the other it collapsed. I lost it all”.

Emad now lives in Bornholm. He likes living on the island, speaks fluent Danish and is enrolled in his education to become an electrician.

Photo by Martin Thaulow, Copyright © Refugee.Today/Good people.

Meet Ayman (b. 1968) stateless Palestinian from Syria & Bisan (b. 2016), a Danish citizen.

Ayman was born in the Palestinian refugee camp Khan Al-Sheh, established in 1949 near Damascus. His parents fled during the Arab-Israeli war in 1948. Ayman is married to Adala who was also born in the refugee camp. The couple has five children. The youngest, Bisan, was born in Denmark and as a child of two stateless Palestinians she was automatically granted a Danish citizenship. 

Today, Ayman, Adala and their children, Yara, Mostafa, Dima, Hamza and Bisan all live on Bornholm. A situation Ayman is very grateful for: 

“We were born as refugees and have been refugees throughout our lives. Bornholm is a safe place and we are very, very happy to live here”.

The conditions in the Khan Al-Sheh camp worsened when the war broke out in Syria and in 2014, after two weeks of constant bombing, the family was forced to flee. It culminated one evening when the neighbor’s house was completely left in ruins. At first, Ayman, Adala and their children were internally displaced in Syria and then they fled to Egypt.

In Egypt, Ayman left his family and boarded a crowded ship towards Italy’s coast - a trip he shared with 280 other refugees. 

Ayman explains about the following trip: “I drove with a ‘refugee taxi’ from Italy to Denmark. Three months after my arrival in Denmark we got family reunification after three months. My family was with me half a year after I left them in Egypt”.

In Syria, Ayman worked as an electrician. Today he has a permanent job as an electrician at JENSEN Denmark, where he assembles machines. 

Ayman about his future dreams: 

“I hope we can return one day, but it must be safe. Right now my dream is to provide a future for my children”.

Photo by Martin Thaulow, Copyright © Refugee.Today/Good people.

Meet Wael (b. 1989) from Aleppo, Syria & Layan (b. 2015) born in Denmark.

In 2010, Wael had served his military duty in Aleppo, but when the war broke out he was once again demanded to join the military. When the military called him in for the third time in 2013, he decided to flee the country. 

Wael had two brothers. His elder brother Abdul went to the military to fill out some documents, but never returned and has now been missing for two years. He left a wife and three children behind. They now live with Wael’s parents in Aleppo. 

Wael’s younger brother, Muhammad, was also called in to serve the military and ended up in jail for six months. His autopsy showed that he died of a heart condition. He died 20 years old.

Wael fled from Syria to Lebanon and then from Lebanon to Turkey. From a coastal area in Turkey, he sailed towards Athens in a boat only six meters long. A boat trip where they sat 44 people in something originally intended for 6-8 people. Afterwards, Wael traveled through Italy and on to Denmark. The boat trip cost around DKK 11.000 and the whole trip from Syria to Denmark cost him approximately DKK 67.000.

Wael came to Denmark in 2013 and got a five-year residence permit. Through family reunification he was united with his wife Fatima one year after his arrival. Since then, they have got their daughter, Layan. 

Fatima’s father Muhammad and brother Basil both died in Syria. The father died at the age of 50 in the beginning of the war and Basil died six months ago, only 19 years old. Both were killed by ISIS.

In Syria, Wael worked as a cameraman with television productions. Today he works with concrete in the company PlBeton. 

The family are happy to live on Bornholm. Wael has work, they have made a family and all the Danes they know are kind to them.

“I miss my parents. Every single day I fear for their lives. When they do not answer, I am so afraid that something has happened to them”.

Wael’s parents still live in Aleppo, where they work as doctors. They want to go away, but cannot afford to escape. 

Photo by Martin Thaulow, Copyright © Refugee.Today/Good people.

Meet Jalil (b. 1983), Kurd born in Ramadi, Iraq & Pouya (b. 2012), Kurd born in Iran. 

Jalil fled Iran because he had participated in a political demonstration in the city of Mahabad. With a group of people he demonstrated because a local Kurdish girl had been raped by an Iranian officer and subsequently thrown out of a window from the 4th floor. After two days of demonstration, the Iranian police began to arrest the protesters and put them in jail. One of Jalil’s friends who had also participated in the demonstration was arrested and afterwards the police arrived at Jalil’s house and were looking for him. 

He was not at home, but his sister let him know about the police’s visit and told him that he could not come back.

Jalil is an Iranian Kurd, but was born in a refugee camp in Ramadi, Iraq. His parents fled to the camp in 1981 due to the war between Iraq and Iran. Jalil and his parents moved back to Iran when Jalil was eight years old. 

In Iran he met his wife Parvin and together they have two children, Pouya and Sama. 

When the Iranian police started looking for Jalil, he, Parvin and Pouya fled to a nearby city. They managed to cross the border between Turkey and Italy. In June 2015 they came to Denmark. The family now lives at the asylum center ‘Slottet’ and has had their application for asylum denied. In March 2018 they will have their case reassessed before the Danish Refugee Board. Their hope is to get a residence permit in Denmark.

Photo by Martin Thaulow, Copyright © Refugee.Today/Good people.

Meet Evin (b. 2012) from Damascus, Syria.

Evin’s parents originally lived in Jobar, the first area in Damascus to be bombed in 2012. 

When the bombs started falling they fled to Evin’s grandparents’ house, where they for a while lived ten people in one house. None of them could work because of the war.

The family fled to Tripoli in Libya where they lived for two years while Evin’s father worked as a carpenter. Shootings in the streets were common and the conditions reminded them of those they had fled from in Syria. When Evin’s brother Salem was to start school, further problems arose since the schools in Tripoli would not register him because he was from Syria. 

The family decided to try to flee out of Libya. To get away, they sat on a crowded ship with 1.500 other refugees. The old ship which had been used for fishing sailed towards Italy and it took them 12 hours before the Italian cost guard found them – before they reached the coast of Italy they had been on the water for 48 hours.

Evin and her family came to Denmark in August 2014. They have got a residence permit and Evin now lives with her mother, father and two siblings.

Their house and a large part of Jobar have been left in ruins a long time ago. Still, 20-50 bombs are being thrown every day and the area which had a population of 250.000 before the war broke out now contains about 50.000 civilians. 

Evin lost her uncle in a bomb attack in 2014. He died 24 years old.

Photo by Martin Thaulow, Copyright © Refugee.Today/Good people.

Meet Maya (b. 2009) from Damascus, Syria.

Maya’s father Ibrahim fled Syria because of the Syrian military. Like many other men before and after him he had to flee in order to avoid being forced to fight in the war. 

In Syria, Maya’s father was self-employed and the owner of three stores. One of the stores was placed in Damascus and the other two were located in the city of Latakia. 

Mayas father arrived in Denmark in 2015. Maya, her brother and her mother came to Denmark afterwards through family reunification. The whole family now live on Bornholm and Maya has got some good Danish friends.

Maya’s grandparents still live in Syria and she has not seen them for many years. Only online, when the network connection allows it. She misses them.

Photo by Martin Thaulow, Copyright © Refugee.Today/Good people.

Meet Hebba (b. 1982) from Baghdad, Iraq.

Hebba’s husband Wisam owned a music store in Baghdad. A group of men, sent by the Iraqi government, came by his shop multiple times and threatened to kill him if he did not close it down. 

After several threats he decided to move to Egypt at the end of 2005. In Egypt he got work at the television channel Al-Baghdadyie. Hebba and their daugther joined him in Egypt at the beginning of 2006.

During his work at Al-Bagdhadyie Wisam developed and contributed to the satire program ‘Besameer’, in which the Iraqi parliament and parliamentarians were criticized. In 2008, Hebba, Wisam and their daugther returned to Baghdad. But Wisam lived in fear of being killed by the dominating militias in Iraq, because he had been part of a political satire program criticizing the Iraqi government.

In September 2015, when Hebba was alone in their house, the family received a threatening letter and shots were fired against their residence. The family immediately fled to another house and in November 2015 they fled out of Iraq.

Hebba, Wisam and their daughter Jelnar and son Jalal today live at an asylum center. Their application for asylum has been denied and they have waited for almost a year to have their case reassessed by the Danish Refugee Board.

Photo by Martin Thaulow, Copyright © Refugee.Today/Good people.

Meet Ghulam (b. 1930) from Kabul, Afghanistan.

Ghulam is the father of Ramazan. They both lived in Kabul, Afghanistan and fled the country after Ramazan had been accused and imprisoned for treachery by the Taliban.
Their hope was to go to Sweden, where Ramazan’s wife and three children of age 7, 8 and 18 have been granted a residence permit. Ramazan’s oldest son had a couple of years earlier fled to Sweden and applied for family reunification with his mother and two other siblings but not with Ramazan, who was not able to leave Afghanistan at that time.

As the only one left to look after his father, Ramazan took Ghulam with him when he fled Afghanistan. 

On the train towards Sweden, Ghulam and Ramazan were caught by the Danish authorities and forced to have their fingerprints registered in Denmark. According to European law, they therefore must apply for asylum in Denmark. 

Since May 2016 they have lived at asylum centers in Denmark. At the moment they live at the asylum center ‘Slottet’ and are still waiting for the decision on their application for asylum.

Photo by Martin Thaulow, Copyright © Refugee.Today/Good people.

Meet Ramazan (b. 1975) from Kabul, Afghanistan. 

Ramazan, his wife and children have not been united as a family for four years. At the moment, he is waiting for a decision in the Danish asylum system.

Ramazan worked and lived in Kabul, Afghanistan, but was accused of treachery by the Taliban. They put him in jail and when he was released, he fled the country with his now 85-year-old father, Ghulam. 

Their goal was to reach Sweden, where Ramazan’s wife and three children of age 7, 8 and 18 have been granted a residence permit. Ramazan’s oldest son had a couple of years earlier managed to flee to Sweden and apply for family reunification with his mother and two other siblings. 

Ramazan did not have the opportunity to leave Afghanistan at that time.

On the train headed to Sweden Ramazan and his father were discovered by the Danish authorities and were forced to have their fingerprints registered in Denmark. According to European law, they therefore must apply for asylum in Denmark. 

Since May 2016 they have lived at asylum centers in Denmark. At the moment they live at the asylum center ‘Slottet’ and are still waiting for an answer on their application for asylum.

Photo by Martin Thaulow, Copyright © Refugee.Today/Good people.

Meet Sawsan (b. 1987) from Damascus, Syria.

Sawsan and her husband originally lived in Jobar, the first district in Damascus that got bombed in 2012. 

She explains that their old house has been left in ruins a long time ago and that 20-50 bombs are still being thrown in the area on a daily basis. There are still 50.000 people living in the district, but before the war the number of residents was around 250.000. 

Sawsan’s brother, Monzer, died in a bomb attack in 2014. He was only 24 years old.

When the bombs started falling, the family fled to the home of Sawsan’s parents - for a while they lived 10 people in the house. None of them could work because of the war. 

Sawsan, her husband and children then fled from Damascus to Tripoli in Libya. Here they lived for two years, where her husband worked as a carpenter. But shootings were common and it reminded them of the conditions in Syria. Furthermore, the school did not want to register their son Salem because he was from Syria.

In order to get away from Libya they got onboard an old fishing ship - the same did 1.500 other refugees. They sailed for 12 hours until they were found by the Italian coast guard – in total they ended up being on the water for 48 hours.
In 2014 they came to Denmark and today they have a residence permit.

Photo by Martin Thaulow, Copyright © Refugee.Today/Good people.

Meet Parvin (b. 1984), Kurd from Iran. 

Parvin fled Iran with her husband Jalil and their two children, Pouya and Sama, because the Iranian police were searching for Jalil. 

He was persecuted by the police because he had participated in a demonstration in the city of Mahabad against an Iranian officer’s rape of a local Kurdish girl. After the rape the Iranian officer had thrown the girl out of a window from the 4th floor. 

After two days of demonstration, the Iranian police began to arrest the protesters and put them in jail. One of Jalil’s friends who had also participated in the demonstration was arrested and afterwards the police arrived at Jalil’s house in search for him. 

He was not at home but his sister let him know about the police’s visit and told him that he could not come back.

At first, Parvin and her family fled to a nearby city. After a while they managed to escape through Turkey and Italy and from there to Denmark. 

They arrived in Denmark in June 2015 and still live at the asylum center ‘Slottet’. 

The family has had their application for asylum denied. They are still hoping to get a residence permit and will have their case reassessed by the Danish Refugee Board in the spring of 2018.

Photo by Martin Thaulow, Copyright © Refugee.Today/Good people.

Meet Sherin (b. 1982) Kurd from Afrin, Syria & Milla (b. 2017) born in Denmark.

Every morning, Sherin wakes up in fear of getting the news that her mother and four siblings who are still living in Syria are no longer alive. 

Sherin talks about having experienced the war: 

“The hardest is not the war itself, but the consequences. To be split up as a family“.

Sherin and her husband Imad originally lived in Afrin in Syria. They were internally displaced in Syria from 2012-2014 and then fled to Northern Iraq. In Iraq Imad was looking for a job on construction sites, but it was hard to find work. 

Sherin, Imad and their two daughters, Angia and Sham, fled to Denmark in January 2016 and got a residence permit in October 2016. Since then they have got another daughter, Milla.

Most of their family members who lived in Aleppo also fled. Sherin has two brothers and one sister who also live in Denmark. “I’m not close to my family, even though most of them live in Denmark” Sherin says sadly. She has only seen them once. They do not have the money to travel for.

She has considered moving back to Syria, but now Afrin is getting bombed again. 

“It feels like the war will never end”. 

And with the bombing of Afrin, she is going through the same emotions as she did 2-3 years ago.

Photo by Martin Thaulow, Copyright © Refugee.Today/Good people.

Meet Salem (b. 2008) from Damascus, Syria.

Salem remembers the war in Syria. Most of all the sounds.

He fled with his mother and father from Damascus in Syria to Tripoli in Libya. In Tripoli, shootings were common and the conditions reminded them of those the family had tried to get away from in Syria. 

When Salem had to start school more problems arose. The schools did not want to register Salem, because he is from Syria. 

Salem and his parents then fled in an old fishing ship, packed with 1.500 other refugees. They were found by the Italian coast guard after 12 hours and before reaching the coast of Italy they had been on the water for 48 hours.

In 2014 they arrived in Denmark, where they were granted a residence permit. 

Photo by Martin Thaulow, Copyright © Refugee.Today/Good people.

Meet Sham (b. 2014) from Syria.

Sham’s mother, Sherin, explains about the war’s impact on the family: 

“The hardest is not the war itself, but the consequences. To be split up as a family”. 

Some of Sham’s family members still live in Syria. Sherin has considered moving back, but it seems hopeless now that Afrin is under severe attack again. “It feels like the war will never end” she says.

Sham’s parents originally lived in Afrin, Syria. They were internally displaced in Syria from 2012-2014 and then fled to the northern part of Iraq. In Iraq, Sham’s father looked for work on construction sites but there were no jobs to find. 

Sham, her parents and her sister Angia fled to Denmark in January 2016 and received a residence permit in October 2016.

Sham’s mother worries whether her daughters will be able to get an education in Denmark.

Photo by Martin Thaulow, Copyright © Refugee.Today/Good people.

Meet Yara (b. 2000). A stateless Palestinian from Syria.

“When you experience war, you kind of feel you will die soon. You never know whether you will survive or not. When there are no bombs for a couple of hours, you always have the feeling that it will come back soon” Yara explains about having lived in a war zone. 

Like her parents and three other siblings, Yara was born as stateless in the Palestinian refugee camp, Khan Al-Sheh, located close to Damascus. The conditions of the Khan Al-Sheh camp deteriorated when the war in Syria broke out and in 2014, the family was forced to flee after two weeks of bombardment. It culminated one evening when the neighbour’s house was completely bombed. Yara explains: 

“I was about 14. One night, we were at home and our neighbour’s house was bombed. We were scared and left immediately. The next morning we went back, picked up the most necessary of our stuff and then we left”. 

At first, Yara and her family were internally displaced in Syria and then they fled to Egypt.

In Egypt, Yara’s father left her, her mother and siblings, and sailed on a crowded ship with 280 other refugees towards Italy. He managed to come to Denmark and from there he applied for family reunification. After six months, the family was united and Yara now lives in Nexø with her mother Adala, father Ayman and four siblings, Mostafa, Dima, Hamza and Bisan.Yara has a job in Kvickly and speaks fluent Danish. “I do not know where my best friends from Syria are now. I only have contact with one friend” the 17-year old girl explains. 

“In Denmark we learn how it was during World War II. How to protect yourself. It is strange, because in Syria we have actually tried it. When you hear the bombs in reality, it’s a completely different loud sound, and the buildings are shaking”.

Yara’s younger sister, Bisan, was born in Denmark and as a child of two stateless Palestinians, she has automatically acquired Danish citizenship. Yara hopes that she can achieve the same one day: 

“Now we are part of society here. As stateless I do not have any rights, so I dream of getting a Danish citizenship. I would like to be a doctor and to travel”.

Photo by Martin Thaulow, Copyright © Refugee.Today/Good people.

Alaa Jaafar is a professor of analytical chemistry and he was the leader of The Chemical Faculty at The University in Bagdad. On September 30, 2014 Alaa and his family decided to flee from Iraq as their lives were endangered due to his profession. That day they had an incident in the street, where a gun was held against Alaa’s head in front of his wife and children (Hussein and Haitham). With the gun they were told to leave the country. This particular incident was in detail explained with some small differences, (concerning the experience of the incident), by Alaa and his wife when questioned by the Board. These differences became the reason for the turn down of their asylum by the Danish Refugee Appeal Board. They found the couple to be untrustworthy. The decision was made despite the fact that the Iraqi Government has stated that it is not safe for university professors in Iraq. The official CEOSI list from Iraq, keeping a track of executed academics, also contains several of Alaa’s friends and colleagues. Doctors, teachers, engineers and scientific people like Alaa are targeted in Iraq. Further more Alaa and his family had been subject to harassment and death threats both by phone and text messages prior to the incident with the gun.

Since the family came to Denmark, Hussein (the oldest son) has been moved to a Danish school as he is a very talented and skilled student. Alaa has been teaching chemistry at the gymnasium and Tamathar (the wife of Alaa) has been helping out at the asylum center. They have been very keen and hard working to integrate into the Danish society. They have been given 7 days to leave Denmark voluntarily. If not they will be sent to a deportation center, where they might stay for years under highly criticizable conditions.

A petition has been made in favour of the Jaafar family to try to change the decision.

Please sign the petition here

The photos were taken approximately a month ago by Martin Thaulow, when he was commissioned by the Red Cross to portray Hussein. The article will be in the coming issue of the Red Cross Member's Magazine. Hussein's story about his talent bringing him to a Danish school and his family will be told.

Photos by Martin Thaulow, Copyright © Refugee.Today/Good people. Click the images in the photo series below to enlarge.

Following the disappearance of her then 17-year-old brother, she fled her native Syria with her mother and another minor brother in late 2013. Their flight route took them through Bulgaria where the police imprisoned them and initiated asylum procedures. Placing the family in the Harmanli refugee camp, which has drawn international criticism for inhumane conditions. Following granting of Bulgarian asylum status the family was left to live at the streets.

The poor state and conditions in Bulgaria made the family seek reasonable conditions and security in Denmark where they asked for asylum in July 2014. Danish authorities has decided that Rojins case should be treated according to the EU Dublin Convention making it possible to refuse Rojin entry to Denmark and extraditing her to Bulgaria, as she has been granted asylum there. The Danish authorizes has refused to take in consideration the conditions she is likely to be subjected to in Bulgaria – punitive prison detention due to her leaving Bulgaria, inhumane refugee camp conditions, lack of integration in the Bulgarian society etc.

Danish authorities are still considering the cases of Rojin’s mother and little brother. Shortly the date of extradition of Rojin (Jan. 20th, 2015) she disappeared from the Danish refugee camp where they were living.

Placed at Kærshovedgaard is 29-year-old Kaywan, who has been in Denmark for the past six years. Being a Kurd of the Yarsani faith, an ethnic and religious minority in Iran, he explains how he chose to escape because he was afraid that his different political beliefs would cost him his life. He and his at that time 14-year-old brother Erfan ended up in Denmark, and have since then struggled to get their asylum. Eight months ago Kaywan and Erfan was transferred from a regular asylum center to Kærshovedgaard. The reason for this being that their plea for asylum has been rejected.

At Kærshovedgaard Kaywan and Erfran live with approximately 45 other men and three women. Some of the other residents are on 'withholding of deportation' (in Danish 'tålt ophold') – a Danish term for refugees who have, or are expected to have, violated international or Danish law, but whom the Danish government cannot evict, because they risk being imprisoned, tortured or killed in their home countries. 

The present minister Inger Støjberg of integration in Denmark has recently declared in public that 'withholding of deportation' should be made “as unbearable as possible” and referred to some of the newly established rules at Kærshovedgaard.

Kaywan - ”We are not criminals, I don’t know why we have been placed here”

The image was taken in front of the old gates of Kærshovedgaard, (we were not allowed to photograph the newly established main entrance). Hands reaching out in a dialogue between one of the residents living at the center and a Venligboer. The resident seemed to be in a bad mental state and lacked the strength to go to the other side of the fence to join the protesters. Photo by Martin Thaulow, Copyright © Refugee.Today/Good people

Kaywan explains how he has never even got a fine in the metro. He and his brother are not on 'withholding of deportation'. Neither are 22-year-old Teshko from Iran, who has been in Denmark for a bit more than a year. He was sent to Kærshovedgaard two weeks ago for the same reason as the two brothers, because his plea for asylum has been rejected.

Kaywan and Teshko explain how they are required to report their presence to the guards once a day, and only allowed to leave the center for a maximum of two days at a time - if given special permission that is. Furthermore, they are only allowed visitors if they report their arrival to the staff two days in advance. They are not able to cook their own food, but are served three meals a day. The nearest city’s council has decided that they cannot take the bus that pass by the center, because the children of the city are on this bus. There is no other public transport to or from Kærshovedgaard and the nearest city is several kilometers away.

Teshko - “This place, it’s a prison”

Portrait of Teshko. Photo by Martin Thaulow, Copyright © Refugee.Today/Good people

In the official document describing the constitution of Kærshovedgaard it is written that the residents are required to participate in maintenance and other duties at the center which might take up to 37 hours a week. Included in this, a maximum of 10 hours of teaching is offered. Kaywan and Teshko do not know for how long they have to stay at Kærshovedgaard. The minister of integration’s political reasoning behind the conditions for persons on 'withholding of deportation' are that these are criminals and therefore should be prevented from living a normal family life by being put under strict surveillance and scrutiny. 

Khoshnaw from Iraq and his Danish wife Christina expecting their first child in March 2017. Photo by Martin Thaulow, Copyright © Refugee.Today/Good people

Khoshnaw, a 23-year-old man from Kirkuk i Iraq, has been sent to Kærshovedgaard for the same reason as Erfan, Kaywan and Teshko. Khoshnaw and his Danish wife Christina are expecting their first child in March. Christina lives on Zealand, in the opposite part of Denmark, and Khoshnaw is under the same restrictions as the rest of the residents on Kærshovedgaard.

Multiple cases of persons on 'withholding of deportation' in Denmark have been brought forward as being possible violations of international human rights law. Even more questionable is it that people who are not on 'withholding of deportation' are being forced to live under the same conditions. 

Yet every day, Erfan, Kaywan, Teshko and Khoshnaw are obliged to report their presence, in the limbo that is Kærshovedgaard.

All images were taken on a rainy autumn day in November, when a group of people travelling from different corners of Denmark, united in a visit to Kærshovedgaard to show their support to the residents and demonstrate their disapproval of these conditions. The event was arranged by the 'Venligboer' Mads Nygaard.

Photos by Martin Thaulow, Copyright © Refugee.Today/Good people

CLICK images in the PHOTO SERIES TO ENLARGE

The camp Al-Tash was established by the former government to gather all Iranian ethnic Kurds in one place and housed 12.000 people. Living conditions were poor; refugees were living in tents and simple houses. In 2003 when Saddam Hussein was overthrown things went from bad to worse, as a large number of al-Qaeda forces, ex-Baathists, and agents of the Islamic Republic of Iran infiltrated the camp. People were killed and gradually forced to leave the camp, with the majority going to the North of Iraq, (Kurdistan).

Mahmood and his family endured Al-Tash until 2006. At that time Mahmood had spent 23 years in the camp, his entire life. He left Al-Tash with his mother and two brothers and they went to the UNHCR camp Barike, in North Iraq.

In Barike he met his wife Jwana (28). She was yet another lifetime refugee, born in Al-Tash, who also left to seek refuge in camp Barike. Jwana gave birth to their two sons Ziad (2) and Aiad (soon to be 5), both born as second generation refugees.

Mahmood - “The only days I have experienced happiness were when I married Jwana, and when she gave birth to Aiad and Ziad. I feel tremendously sad because I have spent all of my life living as a refugee.”

The son, Aiad was born a normal boy looking like any other kid. At the age of 2 he lost all hair on his body. They sought help at a local hospital, but being a poor family, they couldn’t afford to get a diagnosis or give him treatment. Still they don’t know, what he is suffering from.

Mahmood - “Jawana and I have only one dream… We dream of Aiad getting treatment. We fear the worst – Please give our son treatment.”

In 2015 they had been in Barike for almost 9 years. ISIS endangered the area, and like the former camp in Al-Tash, living conditions were bad. The Rhamani family were poor, but despite this they managed to flee to Europe by selling what little they had and years of saving.

In the middle of October 2015 they reached Denmark, and not a single doctor has checked up on Aiad. They are now in the 5th refugee camp, still waiting for their first interview due to be sometime during April.